


sunflower yellow doesn't even begin to describe you

by xShieru



Category: South Park
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Minor canon divergence, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xShieru/pseuds/xShieru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up is all about changes that come with the renewed perspectives on feelings and the world-view. Doubled with teenage angst and rebelling, it is close to unbearable, but even if the world doesn’t always revolve the way you want it to, there’s always a silver lining to it.</p><p>For Craig Tucker it’s Tweek Tweak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunflower yellow doesn't even begin to describe you

**Author's Note:**

> a word vomit. posted because me bro wanted it.  
> i hope all of the secret messages will be easily deciphered.

For the third time that night he wakes up to the sudden jolt under his arm. Eyelids heavy with sleep and the antibiotics he’d taken before falling face down onto the bed, open to inspect the damage. The blond he’s holding shivers violently like he’s having another one of his psychedelic nightmares and his whole body racks with jolts when he winces, pale face rubbing into even paler sheets that smell of illnesses and Craig’s inability to bring himself to drag his laundry to the cleaner’s downtown.

It’s a short walk but a rather begrudging one and he hates the stares he receives, ears plugged while trashy rock music plays just loud enough to drown out the hum of multiple washing machines doing their tasks in unison, their buzzing almost obnoxious. Craig knows that he looks intimidating at his towering height and his resting bitch face could be mistaken for a criminal’s but that’s just his face and he can’t do anything about it. It’s in his genes along with the broad shoulders and the mean stare, something his dad has and so did his mother, only surfacing when Ruby would get overbearing and talked back. He could shave maybe; he’s already fed up with his beard fighting back against his skin. He’s developed a habit of scratching it absentmindedly when it gets too overbearing but Tweek swears that the fuzz has calming qualities as he pets it from time to time.

A series of rattling coughs shake his entire being and his lungs ache almost painfully enough for him to stop breathing for a second. It’s the cold season and Craig’s the one stuck with a bad case of pneumonia and the physical labor to keep the taxes paid and the landlord off their backs. Ever since he got kicked out of his last workplace for getting into a fight with his boss, he’s been working hard almost non-stop, cursing his own inability to ace any job interviews that had come across his way during the last three months. His attitude is still unacceptable by most of society and even though he has better reigns of it than he did back in his teenage-angst ridden school years, Craig still finds it all too easy to slip up, too easy for his vision to go black and red around the edges if some offhanded comment he doesn’t approve of is thrown around, not necessarily at him.

Whatever, the guy deserved the bitter truth that he had spewed blinded by his own rage, the flick of his middle finger as he told his boss that he was quitting their shithole for a company. He didn’t need to deal with assholes, couldn’t tolerate them.

He doesn’t need a boss who looks down on him for who he is and with whom he chooses to live with.

This is no longer South Park and the close knit community of its fucking insane inhabitants who, despite their flaws and outlooks, still supported each other through thick and thin. It’s a hard start for Craig, even much so for Tweek who is moaning low gasps in his uneasy sleep, rolling around under Craig’s arm that’s loosely draped around the other’s toothpick-thin waist. Tweek’s rapidly losing weight at an alarming rate and that strikes worry deep within Craig’s usually cold and unfeeling heart. Tweek’s never exactly been thick, always lanky as though someone had dragged him in opposite directions, bones frail-looking and knees knobby, veins visible under the pale skin of his forearms. This new town, new state are enough to drive him near the edge of fear-induced psychosis and he has a hard time settling down – oh, the irony – hair uneven where he’s been ripping at them as he choked on his own anxiety whenever he got back home, shaking like a baby deer and telling Craig that this was _too much, too pressuring, could they please just go back home, this was a bad idea—_

Craig never lets him finish it as he instead grounds the boy that he’s spent years together with, his touches feather light, until the shaking subsides and the other calms down, his quivers subsiding to something almost non-existent. The blond’s voice still trembles, yet he twitches a whole lot less than he used to when he was a kid, the buttons of his shirt always misaligned and coffee in his metal thermos while other kids carried around tea and juice.

Their journey has been long and Craig knows that they still have a long way to go until they can finally be who they truly want to, until they’re in sync and everything is at least somewhat back to normal. It’s the normalcy – again, irony – that he misses. He misses the freedom and maybe his parents but Craig knows that it will be a long while before he can step a foot in his own house. He wonders if his dad hates him. He’s never truly been the trophy son, at least not for the last few years that he spent in that place, low-key planning to kill himself instead of taking his finals, graduating, thinking that he’d be stuck in that goddamn city for the rest of his life.

Another row of coughs make him woozy and short of breath, throat feeling as though he had sandpaper shoved in it and he pulls his scarf up higher on his face, not wanting Tweek to get sick, though at this point he knows that it’s pretty much inevitable. Tweek still insists on sleeping together in their shared bed even though Craig has almost begged the other to stay on the couch which wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but his arguments were shut down. His blondie, as frail looking as he was, remained a fighter, opinions firm no matter what situation and that was something that Craig could never not love with every inch of his being. Tweek’s personality was his drug, something that made him protective as fuck and made him proud too, a fondness curled in his chest.

He feels for his lover’s slightly damp face. It twitches under his slick palm, pointy nose scrunching up lightly and Craig sighs, eyebrows knit. Unsurprisingly, the other seems to have a fever doubled with bad dreams. He vaguely considers dragging his pile of wool sheets to the sofa but instead he strokes the side of the other’s face to rouse him, years of experience telling him that he shouldn’t attempt to poke or shake or, god forbid, pinch his nose shut. Last time he tried any of those, he ended up with various bruises where Tweek’s forehead had connected when he suddenly sat up with a startled yell or punched him in his face, profusely apologizing afterwards _oh god, I’m so so sorry I thought you were a wendigo and where are we again-_

Tweek’s eyes open wide and he wildly looks around, scanning his surroundings, seemingly disoriented. He squints, trying to make something out in the dark that smothers their room which smells like stale tea, medicine and dust. It’s in a desperate need to be aired. Hazel eyes – though in the dark they look brown – land on Craig and the tension dissipates from the blond’s wound up body as he finally recognizes where he is.

Lately it keeps happening more and more and Craig honestly doesn’t know what to make of it, but Tweek reassures him that it’s been happening since forever and there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe that’s why he dreads the thought of sleeping alone and waking up in the small living room without a familiar presence that he instantly recognizes, would recognize even if he was blind, pressed against him. It terrifies Tweek, the idea of not knowing where he is for at least a few minutes, darkness surrounding him, pushing the breath out of his lungs, icy panic settling in.

“Craig,” he acknowledges, shaky palms lightly tracing the bridge of the black-haired man’s nose, the prominent cheekbones, ruffling through his unkempt hair that’s heavily falling into dark blue eyes, bangs too long.

“You okay?” It’s a stupid question to ask. Tweek tenses again, taking his hands away as though they’ve burned, settling them on his chest.

“N-No.”

Craig feels around his forehead again. “You’re feverish. I told you not to sleep with me. If we’re both sick, who’s going to earn money?”

It’s not meant to be scolding, more like an accepting sigh of utter defeat but Tweek’s set off again, worse than before, “I—I, shit, sorry, I’m okay, I promise.”

Craig tries to calm him before the other can start abusing his blond hair. He grasps at Tweek’s twitchy fingers until he tones it down with his morbid rant, this one more delirious than anything else that spills out of his mouth nowadays. It almost feels like they’re back in fourth grade again. It must be the fever kicking in.

“I’ll go make some honeysuckle tea for you,” Craig says, coughing as he slowly rises. The room spins uncomfortably. “Stay put, okay?”

“Y-You’re the sick one here, I should be d-dotting on you, right?”

“No.”

“Y-yes.”

They get into a minor fight and Tweek, despite looking like he’s ready to pass out again, wins this one only because Craig doesn’t really want to move all that much. He blames his traitorous lungs because mid-argument they make him almost curl up and the feeling of nausea hits hard.

This time his blondie doesn’t really look satisfied with his win. Over the years, Craig has noticed that Tweek always felt proud of himself whenever he shut Craig down during their arguments, slim chest puffing up slightly. Now Tweek just looks bad and ill and the black-haired man contemplates stopping him before he can leave. They should be staying in bed right now, he could simply pass Tweek the assortment of pills splayed on their night table, along with a glass of water that’s always placed there.

He’s shivering from cold or from sickness or maybe he’s just back to his default mode, Craig can’t really tell, as he squints against the orange light spilling in from the small kitchenette. There’s the sound of Tweek rummaging through their tea stash, followed by the clatter of dropped things and muffled ‘shit’s, water running into a kettle. Craig’s about to close his eyes and drift off again when there’s a loud sound that he’s all too familiar with and dreads completely. His dark eyes fly open as he sits up, chest constricting. A few more crashes follow and he jumps out of the bed, rushing into the kitchenette, cursing when he almost slips on the puddle of water. He can take care of that later. He kneels down in front of the blond’s unconscious body, panic creeping up his spine.

“Tweek!” he yells, shaking at him. The other lies motionless, a light frown between his thin eyebrows and sweat caking him, shirt stuck to the lean body. He’s burning like an ember in a dying fireplace and Craig lifts him up like he weights nothing, and honestly, he has to carry heavier boxes than what Tweek weighs. His heart hammers in his throat as he gently lays the other down on the bed.

It takes Craig at least three times to still his fingers enough just to dial the damn 911.

This isn’t _good_ and the thought of the last few times something like this had happened makes his stomach freeze over. He stutters something into the speaker answering that _yes,_ this has happened _before_ , and _yes_ the patient has some _illnesses._ He quickly recites them, running shaky fingers through his hair, feeling the unwelcome prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes when they settle on the motionless blond dressed in Craig’s old gray shirt that’s too big and small on him at the same time. The operator tells him to _calm down_ and gives him instructions but he can’t and wants nothing more than to yell, but still - he holds his tongue. After it’s done, Craig paces around, obsessively checking the time, only settling down to dab at Tweek’s scorching forehead with a wet towel, checking his breathing. It’s shallow.

It doesn’t take long for the ambulance to arrive but for Craig it feels like an eternity and some more has passed. They roll him in and Craig doesn’t even fully listen to the questions he’s being asked, not minding that he’s only wearing his worn hoodie and basketball shorts even if it’s freezing out there and he’s really _really_ sick. He starts coughing, vision swimming, yet he almost shoves the paramedic away, wild eyes on Tweek who is slowly regaining consciousness, groaning. He can’t seem to take a hold of wakefulness though and then he’s out of Craig’s sight, swarmed by the paramedics and eventually the hospital’s personnel.

It’s the worst night Craig’s had in a while as he sits in the waiting room, left leg bouncing nervously and he almost wishes he had his hat with him so he could pull it low over his tired, glossy eyes. He doesn’t like the stares that are shot his way and he only gets up to get some water to quell his coughs. He refuses any medical attention, not minding the prying of the nurses. He already has no idea how they will pay for the ER visit and he certainly doesn’t need to pay extra. He’ll live.

On the other hand, Tweek’s current condition scares him shitless because they tell him to wait outside yet offer no information about his wellbeing no matter how he asks.

“Please give us some time,” they say and Craig loses his shit whenever he hears it.

He’s had it with _time_ and hospitals and other medical attention-related shit up to his goddamn neck yet he knows that this isn’t the end because he’s with Tweek and Tweek is a mess of everything that’s not supposed to _exist_ in the human brain. There’s no way to tell when it will get bad and Tweek _doesn’t_ deserve it. Not someone as kind as him, not someone Craig cares for more than the world. Not them. Never them.

It’s moments like these that make him blame himself for leaving South Park. It was his dumb idea to begin with. Tweek’s family isn’t there, something that affects the boy no matter from what angle you look at it and while they don’t really have true professionals in their hometown, they always calm Craig down whenever he’s choking on his own anger and fear. Their doctors know what to say to make it understandable instead of reciting bullshit med school slang and making him unnecessarily scared, making him think that maybe he’s no good at this and he can’t help his lover after all. He’s _not_ _enough_ to support Tweek.

It’s only at 7 am that the doctor in charge tells Craig that Tweek’s stabilized and that he has nothing to worry about, _this isn’t serious it’s not like a minor fainting episode should affect him in any way_ and Craig wants to yell again, punch the man dressed in his pristine white coat square in the face, hear bones crack and feel blood on his knuckles.

They always do it, always write it off and mock him for his overboard worry and maybe there really is nothing wrong, nothing to actually make Tweek- oh gods, he doesn’t even want to think about it. There are certain facts though - Tweek is frail and dying day by day, dying by something unseen that even Craig can’t reach to and fix with his touches and hushed words. He’s wilting like those goddamn petunias his mother loves, touched by the icy fingers of their mountain town’s weather.

Slowly, Craig forces himself to calm down and think rationally. Tweek isn’t in any danger right now, other than his overworked psyche, anxiety and flu piling up on him and knocking him out. He’s got a good immune system, frolicking around at South Park with only plain button downs truly did a number on him, though when he gets sick – he gets sick with a bang.

It’s like every time something like this happens, it’s Craig’s fault.

He remembers how Tweek had to be carried out of the school several times back when they were still in high school, back when Craig was too busy playing the uncaring part, a post-breakup lingering between them and no words exchanged. He remembers skipping school just so he could go visit his _ex_ , not minding the shit that Donovan was giving him.

He remembers Tweek pale, almost no contrast with the snow white sheets he had lain on, eye-bags worse than Craig had ever seen them and cheeks sunken, making his face look unnaturally sharp. Craig might’ve cried then, a few silent tears slipping out as the Tweaks stared him down, judging, obviously blaming him for their son’s state.

He deserved every bit of it but it still stung like a son of a bitch when Tweek’s mother had asked if he was happy with this, though it wasn’t his fault, not truly. She had been stopped mid-sentence by a heavy hand placed on her shoulder by Mr. Tweak, who had merely shaken his head. He might’ve felt it, might’ve known why Craig did what he did, what he was told to do, maybe he even understood, but by no means did it justify anything.

Their eerie stares had only drilled him harder when he had pulled out a chair and twirled it backwards, arms crossed on the metal and obscuring half of his face, hat pulled low enough to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. And then Tweek was awake, scared and tired all at once and Craig had draped himself across the other, the hospital bed creaking from the extra weight, metal groaning to adjust. Craig hadn’t even let the worried parents worry over their son as he apologized over and over again, sneaking in a few kisses that were barely there, uncaring that he had been crushing the other boy who had been silently crying. Shaky fingers had twisted the back of Craig’s jacket, awkwardly stroking his back.

Tweek’s parents had left the room, albeit unwillingly, giving the boys some privacy and Craig would’ve loved to kiss him, breakup or not, but Tweek had already been on it, lips pursed a little awkwardly and just a bit off center. They had kept it up for a while, not really experienced with this kind of thing, kisses just a bit too wet, from tears or not, they hadn’t really known.

Even as they dated, ever since that weird misunderstanding when they were ten, they didn’t necessarily fit in with those normal couples that were around them. They weren’t Clyde and his three girlfriends all at once, they weren’t Stan and Wendy or Bebe and whoever happened to be around that day. They were first and foremost friends, a bit awkward around the edges but still friends, that much was undeniable.

Craig liked Tweek since the first punch to his face, weak yet still stinging and while he was by no means a masochist, there was a certain fire in Tweek’s eyes as they duked it out in their elementary school’s yard, obnoxious cheering of the other kids in the background. Tweek was afraid of him, he could tell that much just by looking, but he was brave enough to kick his ass and that was what got Craig low-key obsessed with the other.

He remembers sitting in front of the blond, rubbing at the sores that Craig had had inflicted as they had asked each other if the things that they had supposedly heard the other say had been true. The fact that Tweek hadn’t really said anything bad about Stripe, and why would he when he found guinea pigs really cute and adorable, had gone through Craig’s kid heart, which had been swelling in an unfamiliar way as he had stuck a bandage on Tweek’s elbow, suddenly embarrassed.

Afterwards they passed each other by and without even noticing it, one would drift to the other, absentmindedly chattering about weird things like underpants gnomes (Tweek swore they were real, like, dude, seriously, check under your bed at 3:30 am if you don’t believe me) and Mr. Makkey’s stupidity, snickering meanly. Tweek had a cute snicker, a bit airy but he seemed the most normal when he laughed, twitch disappearing.

Before he knew it, Tweek was joining them at the cafeteria’s lunch table (Craig may or may not have indiscreetly asked him to do it, he definitely doesn’t have any memory of it). At first Tweek had a hard time talking to them and had mostly just listened to Craig and his friends’ chatter, only letting out soft whines of annoyance when his shivering wouldn’t let him pin down the last pea in his meal.

None of his friends ever said anything, not when Craig was around anyways, actually adjusting to the weirdo as the days went by. Clyde even liked him and Token found him fascinating in a way someone would find a dead frog placed on the dissection plate. They always teased Craig in their own way, Clyde making obvious remarks about him being a burning homosexual and Token keeping it discreet, wisely saying something that half of the time Craig wouldn’t even catch up on. Of course he denied that shit, face set into a stony mask in order to convince his friends even further that he was dead serious though he couldn’t hide the back of his neck. It just wouldn’t correspond with his brain and had a mind of its own, always reddening slightly. At least his ears, ever the dead giveaways, always stayed covered so no one was the wiser. Or so he thought until Wendy Testaburger and yaoi-crazed (What did it mean again? He forgot.) Asians happened. With their sick fantasies and fetishes.

He still has some of their art hidden in his old comic books.

However, the prospect of _actually dating_ Tweek Tweak was a disturbing one. It was one thing to innocently crush on the weirdo and completely other to actually be together. Homosexuality wasn’t acceptable, at least that was something that he had heard his father say time and time again as he’d watch the news and something related to gay rights or parades had come up. His mother was absolutely indifferent to it and wouldn’t give any opinions so the man’s disgusted rambling would die down soon after. Craig didn’t even contemplate his sexuality at the time or even bothered to explore it, he doubted that many kids had, so he was one-hundred percent certain that he was not a homosexual, wouldn’t be something that was disgusting, someone his dad looked down upon and sneered at in the privacy of their own home. And with _Tweek_ of all people? _Really?_

…Was it that obvious?

It actually wasn’t, it had been a random choice and it absolutely had to be them because they were known for their brawl from years ago and apparently some girls were into that or something. Forbidden love, infliction of bruises followed by heated make out sessions. Whatever. He didn’t give a fuck and he doubted that he wanted to make out with Tweek either way. It sounded too gross and back then he still gagged whenever he saw his parents kissing.

So he pushed the nervous boy away, severely ashamed and afraid of the judgement that surprisingly never came. Everyone seemed obsessed with the idea of young love that was also forbidden, encouraging them to keep it up. They didn’t even care that Craig couldn’t sleep at night because of it, constantly thinking about his dad’s stares and words, feeling as though he was disappointing him somehow. He still was at the age where parents meant the world to him and he couldn’t imagine himself being alienated or even kicked out of his own goddamn household.

His brain had conjured worst case scenarios, playing out over and over to the point he was too scared to even get close to his friend, freaked out by the stares. He played it cool, feelings for family conflicting with the feelings for the boy, a fragile little thing that he had unknowingly nurtured and that was growing with every passing day, waiting to bloom. It felt weird, a bit stuffy and he wasn’t sure if he liked it all that much but the moment Tweek grasped his hand that fateful morning and when he told Craig that he wanted to fix whatever was happening to him, the boy could only feel light as though he were a balloon. He liked the feeling just like how he enjoyed staying at Tweek’s or his place or sometimes even Clyde’s because Token’s parents were too snobbish to let someone’s children roam around their fancy manor at the time. He liked playing video games with the blond guy, eating junk food and sharing stories and just talking about weird things that were too obscure for his young brain to figure out.

Craig had a feeling that Tweek liked all of it too, only if for the fact that his shaking would almost disappear whenever Craig was near, their knees or arms touching. Sometimes he’d absentmindedly take Tweek’s hand and the other wouldn’t mind it, though at times he’d look up with a slight blush covering his pale face and they’d stare at each other, some sort of tension between them that they still didn’t understand.

Clyde asked him if he kissed Tweek yet. So did the rest of the girls in their grade.

And he did kiss him when they were twelve and the hype had significantly died down as Wendy decided to play the homosexual couple matchmaker, her hawk-like gaze looking for new victims and Craig recalls actually feeling bad for Stan and Kyle when he heard Cartman dealing the girl some juicy top secret information in return for her lunch money for the rest of the month.

He didn’t want to kiss Tweek for many reasons, the main being his braces era. Craig still clearly remembers his dad all but dragging him to their local dentist on a sunny September afternoon, not minding the barrage of curses and hissing that his son showered him with. Ruby had laughed at him then, but little did she knew that she was in for a checkup too.

Craig also recalls almost biting off the man’s fingers as he checked his mouth and, _oh god_ , he really was to wear braces and that was like, social suicide. He refused, resorting to all kinds of tactics, but his dad’s word was final and after a few more visits he had a mouth full of metal and a feeling of uncomfortable pressure as that shit pushed on his teeth, pulling them into place so they were more even. He couldn’t really argue with anyone though, even he knew that the bottom row really did deserve those braces. That’s what he got for jumping out of a tree as a stupid dare and knocking out at least two teeth in the process while the next four fell out in the span of a week. With no proper support they grew out however the fuck and it didn’t help that Craig was tracing his tongue over his aching gums, hating himself and the stupid teeth as he set them slightly off course in their growth.

When he showed up to school, he refused to speak or, god forbid, _smile_ , not that he was in a huge danger of that happening. Smiling came rarely to him, maybe because he was surrounded by idiots and hating everything around him was so much easier. Cartman had an absolute field day when he saw those monstrosities and if Craig were any weaker he might’ve felt incredibly bullied and later on he really did, as some of the upperclassmen, who hated his guts, started making fun of his weakness whenever he told them to _eat shit and die fuck are you blind this is my locker now fuck off._

Tweek hadn’t taken too well to this, also getting some shit for being ‘the nerd’s’ boyfriend but he took it in and let the bullying happen. Sometimes Craig wasn’t even sure if the other was actually listening to any of it, lost in his own world full of invisible monsters and gnomes, hazel eyes focused downwards as he visibly shivered, earning even more laughing and sneers.

He was small and petite and he had to be protected at all costs and while the others didn’t really interfere, Craig always let his nasty mouth run lose, sometimes getting into fights though at the time he was starting to avoid them. His braces truly were torture devices until he adjusted and he remembers getting punched in the jaw, most of the damage coming from the slices inside his lips where the metal snagged at the tender flesh. The upperclassmen obviously picked up on Craig’s sudden hesitance to punch things and they took it out on Tweek even more, knowing that the other wouldn’t jump in to save his boyfriend like a knight in shining armor (and braces).

Craig recalls his panic when he heard the guys in his class whispering among themselves that Tweek Tweak was getting his bones broken in the backyard and the black-haired boy was too busy running there as fast as his short legs could carry to rag on others for not doing anything to help, accidentally running into a teacher who obviously didn’t know what was happening.

He remembers the rage when he saw Tweek held down by one guy as another aimed a punch at his already bruised face but before it could connect Craig leapt on the offender like an enraged feline, dragging him in a strong chokehold. His pal was too astounded by what happened and possibly too high to react. Tweek didn’t wait, using the commotion to stomp on the oaf’s foot as he pushed himself away and kicked his leg that was hopping around, while he clutched the other’s toes, making the guy kiss the sidewalk. They seemed no longer in a mood to fight now that the school’s power couple was reunited and scrammed away. Craig contemplated giving chase, throwing a small rock after them but Tweek’s condition was more important. The boy held his left wrist tenderly, wincing slightly. It looked pretty bad, swelling visibly. Without waiting, Craig unwrapped his scarf, tying it so that the blond could slip his forearm into it.

“Careful, that’s it...” Craig whispered, trying to keep the movement of the other boy’s arm to a minimum. Tears were welling in those hazel eyes at the prickly feeling of pain but more than anything Tweek seemed angry and that somehow put Craig off. It was a rather unusual sight to behold.

“T-They were – _agh!_ – making fun of you and and and… I just couldn’t listen to it anymo—Jesus, _it fucking hurts!_ ” Tweek flinched when he involuntarily moved a bit, the bruise hurting him. He then looked up at Craig, doe-like eyes still leaking involuntary tears and lower lip quivering. There was something about that moment that had been Craig’s and his alone and he was almost glad that no one had followed them and seen them like this. Tweek’s left eye was slowly swelling, a dark purple bruise forming there that wouldn’t subside for the next two days or so accompanied by a trickle of blood coming out of his nostril, dripping on the snowy asphalt.

Craig’s heart had fluttered but worry ate at him more as he took Tweek’s healthy hand, squeezing lightly. “Yeah, well, don’t fight alone, then. Next time wait for me to get there so we can kick their asses together,” he murmured, cheeks flushed pink at the thought of his boyfriend actually jumping to his rescue like that. Tweek was so brave when he wanted to be yet the black-haired boy had a nagging suspicion that perhaps he had almost died of fear before the fight broke out. Tweek was too nice to actually get into fist fights with other people of his own accord unless they pissed him off and maybe they had been similar in that sense.

The boy grinned widely, his teeth a pearly white and nothing like Craig’s own, perfect in length and alignment. Sometimes Craig used to think that despite the blond’s unkempt appearance, he was actually the prettiest boy in their grade, even prettier than the girls, too, with his fluffy blond hair and big eyes and supremely cute face.

They were in the nurse’s office and Craig remembers heaving a sigh of relief at the thought that they were already in middle school and the nurse didn’t have fetuses attached to her head or other parts. She poked around Tweek’s apparently sprained wrist and put salve on the boy’s black eye and then told him to lie down and wait until his nose no longer bled and his parents got there. Craig was supposed to leave, he hadn’t been the injured one there but she really couldn’t care less as she disappeared in her office, a magazine held in her hands.

There was an awkward silence as Craig looked over his boyfriend’s frail looking form, unsure how he managed to escape this without broken bones. If he had wrapped his fingers around Tweek’s wrist, there would’ve been enough free space to stick a finger through the gap. That was how small the other used to be.

“I hate these damn braces,” Craig said in a moment of sudden anger when he thought back to those assholes who had beaten the boy up. He plotted to get his revenge as soon as he was out of his torture devices and that wasn’t coming anytime soon. His dentist told him that he had to spend at least a year with those braces. “It’s my fault you’re hurt.”

“N-No. I fought them c-coz they were insulting you. It’s not your fault for having them.”

‘ _Kinda is_ ,’ was what Craig wanted to say but held his tongue. “Whatever. It still happened and I wasn’t there to kill them. Sorry.”

Tweek stared at him for a long moment, no longer shivering now that they were like this, holding hands. He had looked at one of those medical gross posters depicting a dissected brain. “I-I think they’re cool though! Dangerous, but cool,” he flushed and Craig could tell that he was lying. Even to this day Tweek wasn’t a very good liar with all that impulsiveness and whatnot.

He snorted. “Cool? Dude, it’s like my own mouth hates me.” He tugged at the side of his mouth in distaste. Tweek continued staring at the braces and Craig kind of thanked god that he hadn’t eaten anything yet. This would’ve been way more awkward if he had food stuck in them. “There’s nothing cool about it, I just look like a… giant nerd,” he finished, head hung low in shame. Those bastards were right. The whole braces image didn’t fit him, he looked like a damn loser who did calculus for _fun._

Tweek’s bell-like laughter startled the living shit out of him and the boy snorted adorably, making Craig’s heart ache. “You are a huge nerd though, right? A space nerd!”

“Am not,” he barked just for the sake of going into defensive. They both knew that he totally was.

“Are too!”

Their banter continued until their personal spaces somehow shrank and meshed together and Craig felt that stupid tension spark between them again, however this time he couldn’t focus on how annoying it was. Clyde’s words rung loudly in his ears and beckoned him to kiss Tweek but he didn’t want to do it without asking first, yet he felt too ashamed to even try. What if Tweek didn’t want to do it? Then he would’ve sounded stupid. Besides, as far as Craig was concerned, they were still fake dating, had been since day one and they didn’t ever talk about this being serious. Heck, their parents had been against them having sleepovers and sharing a bed. Craig’s dad in particular.

He could feel Tweek’s erratic breath against his lips and he vaguely remembered that they were in the nurse’s office and that she or Tweek’s parents could walk in at any given moment but it didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. They weren’t in there for long enough.

“W-what are you doing?” Tweek squeaked, eyes abnormally wide and he looked more innocent than Craig ever remembered. It made his heart skip a bit.

“Uh. Dunno.”

“Are you…” the blond took in a deep breath, his face tomato red by now. “Are you trying to k-k-kiss me?”

“A-Am I?”

“Are you?”

“Maybe,” Craig said simply, now really tempted to do it. This felt a whole lot like a challenge but Tweek squeaked again and he had pushed on Craig’s face slightly, making the other bristle in discontent.

“Y-You can’t! B-Braces, oh Jesus, wh-what if you cut me? Or… Or yourself? No, I don’t think we should-“ It had been a bit of a disappointment but for Craig at that very moment it felt like the end of the world as he tried to mask his hurt, sitting properly on the bed.

“I’m not asking you to have sloppy make outs with me.”

Tweek stilled and peeked through his fingers, blush returning twice as bad. “You’re n-not?”

“Of course not. But if you don’t want to then _mmfph_ —“ he had stopped mid-sentence, the feeling of two chapped lips pressing against his open mouth making his brain shut down. And it had been plain awkward until Craig realized that he had to close it shut, face igniting. That uncomfortable feeling of awful longing turned into something soft and warm, kind of like how Tweek’s fair hair had felt against his fingertips when he held the back of his neck shyly, not sure where to put his hands. It wasn’t playing out like in some movie but it was nice and all and ended way too fast because Tweek moved and naturally his wrist moved with him, extracting a pained yelp.

They stared at each other as Tweek spouted frantic apologies _oh Jesus, they shouldn’t have done this and now it’s no longer pretend because they’re doing boyfriend things, real boyfriend things and this is too much to handle, oh god, he’s going to be the worst boyfriend ever-_

Craig held his hand and reassured him that Tweek already was the best boyfriend he could’ve asked for, fake or not. That was how the blond’s parents found them, holding hands and blushing and they didn’t comment on it, but Tweek’s mother had been smiling genuinely and even his dad looked amazed by the fact that their son had been completely still for the rest of the day as they took him to the hospital to get a brace. Craig was the first one to take out a black marker and write on it, a 'get well soon' message with a messy heart scribbled instead of an exclamation mark.

They hadn’t kissed for at least a year, too awkward to actually do it. They were fine holding hands though.

It’s only when they hit fifteen that things really start to change. Crowds were forming, opinions were changing and everything was so different that it no longer felt right for some people to talk to others because they weren’t cool or popular enough. Right until graduation Craig never knew what it meant to stand at the bottom of the social ladder. He had figured out that it was due to the fact that he was friends with Clyde who was the captain of their baseball team through the entirety of high school and won one match after another. Token was rich and that was no longer looked at as a flaw and so Craig often found himself pitying the other whenever he saw the guy struggling to decide who his real friends were and who was in it only for the cash.

Craig had nothing, no cash, no mansions and no hotel lines, no great grades – though, that was also no longer _cool_ , Broflovski was considered a huge fucking nerd along with Testaburger, but the girl was still the most wanted thing in their entire middle school, so there was nothing wrong with that. Cute and nerdy girls were _hot_ or something along those lines. Craig had no celebrity status and pretty much rode Clyde’s coat-tails all the time. Not like he cared. He and Clyde were still _friends_ as far as he had been concerned even though they had spent considerably less time together when Craig dropped out of the baseball team.

He had to take remedy classes because he would’ve much rather skipped class and smoked than sit through yet another lit class. Hamlet wasn’t his jam, it was stupid and too complicated, and his essay writing skills were stuck somewhere in fifth grade.

His father had been disappointed with his son’s behavior but Craig no longer gave a shit, deciding to do whatever he wanted instead. He had discovered shitty habits such as low-key alcoholism and over the months his aforementioned cigarette stash had flourished. Sometimes he joined Clyde and his jocks to get high. Token could supply them with that shit, being so rich and all. He even got weed for Craig’s 14th birthday as a joke, not knowing that it would actually be used in the near future.

The only things that Craig did have were his murderous stares, fighter skills, troublemaking and above average looks. Chicks wanted a ride, suddenly forgetting that he’s gay and that he still had a boyfriend. The hype had died down almost completely once they entered 10th grade and no one gave a fuck that he was dating Tweek Tweak, even forgot it, sometimes on purpose, because people didn’t really like the kid anymore.

Tweek was too fucking weird to be around in the eyes of most of the teens out there, yet if some situation arose where he had to choose, Craig always chose to leave shitty parties with Tweek’s waist warming his arm than stick around and be miserable, eyes directed either at his phone or at some faraway corner where couples were heatedly sucking face, the shit pop music that was a common occurrence in these parties drowned out by the sound of every punk rock available blasting through his headphones.

It helped Craig deal with his rage problems or whatever the hell his therapist liked to call them. He wasn’t rage-filled, just annoyed by most the things in life starting from his teachers’ grating voices and ending with the fact that there were still people out there who were dumb enough to pick fights with him. He even got fingerless gloves for that. They protected his knuckles and didn’t stain his skin with blood too bad. He had been full of teenage angst and hormones and he wasn’t stupid so he decided to wait it out yet until then he thought that he could do whatever he wanted to blow off some steam.

It was a usual sight for everyone to see Tweek, the weird kid whose height reached the extremes since he hit fourteen and was now taller than half of their grade, awkwardly pressed against some wall as Craig Tucker whispered what seemed to be obscenities into his ear, making the blond boy’s knees quiver and his face flush. If some thought that it was a bit gross, no one said anything. They did make offhand remarks about how Craig could do better than a psychopath and a possible schizophrenic, but those people didn’t ever get to voice out their thoughts till the end. It wasn’t too unusual to see the duo sitting by the principal’s office, Tweek shaking like a leaf blown by the autumn winds, readying himself for the same old lectures.

When they’re sixteen, Tweek’s parents begin to treat Craig Tucker a little colder and it was damn weird because they were usually known to be as one of the town’s kindest couples as long as their business wasn’t threatened or their coffee brews insulted. Apparently, Craig was a bad influence on their son and Craig remembers the first time he actually told his boyfriend’s dad to back the fuck off but afterwards even he started to think.

He used to wonder if breaking up with Tweek would be a good thing. He was honestly scared that the guy would have no friends to turn to but it would’ve been better if he stayed out of any fights that Craig caused. He didn’t appreciate the worried stares as Craig would wipe at his bloody nose if some asshole managed to land a hit. He hadn’t appreciated Tweek telling him that he didn’t want to hang around their weirdass jock/rich-kid group because he wanted Craig to have friends and he was making it hard with his weirdness and mental issues.

Tweek has been prone to anxiety attacks since entering middle school and he would cry before tests and choke and sometimes even coffee wasn’t enough to help him. He walked around as though he was a zombie, cheeks sunken and eyelids heavy as he twitched and jerked nervously at every whisper or look directed his way. His shirts were still a mess and had coffee stains on them along with his notebooks, letters blurred out. It wasn’t before their 7th grade summer vacation that Craig finally got fed up and cornered his boyfriend.

And he certainly didn’t expect for Tweek to blow up all over him like that as he yelled and talked so fast that the words blurred into something nonsensical. He was ripping at his hair and there were tears in his eyes and Craig somehow knew that one of Tweek’s ‘heavier’ episodes would inevitably come.

“I slept – shit, fuck – I slept for… for like, uh, two hours, man. In the last five days. _Five fucking days._ I’m a dead man, Craig, I’m a fucking dead man with n-no – _ugh!_ – future and I’m going to fail my finals my parents will- will hate me and so will you and maybe you hate me _already_ , what fucking high school a-are we talking about? I’m such a f-failure, _god, I’m so fucking sorry_ ,” he yelled and closed his wild eyes, heaving heavily as he sunk against the brick wall of their school building, shaking violently. Tweek looked like his word vomit was soon to be the real deal and Craig had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do or even say, slightly freaked out by this.

He knelt beside his lover who was curled up in a tight ball, rocking himself back and forth and Craig asked him something along the lines whether or not he had his meds because he didn’t know what else to do. He begged for Tweek to look at him, attempted to touch him, hug him but the other simply shook his head no and swatted his prying arms away as he asked Craig to go away.

In the end, Tweek had gotten angry at himself for his own ‘bitching’ or how he put it and the moment he got up to bail, Craig knew that something wasn’t right, arms out and ready to catch the other as he instantly blacked out.

Craig recalls how during the course of the last two weeks before his collapse, Tweek had seemingly lost almost all of his mass, looking like a moving skeleton who was by now awkwardly towering over every head in the hallways, slouching forward slightly so he would stand out less. He looked ill and not right in the head, as he muttered away to himself and he often looked around frantically as though the room would collapse in on him at any given moment.

Craig remembers how Tweek would stand pressed against the lockers, silently praying that no one would come and kick him out of the way. People pitied him, but no one actually wanted to help out, offer some support, writing him off as a weirdo with a severe case of ADHD like he was still eight and didn’t have anything else on his mind than to be creepy on purpose for the sake of attention.

Marsh had found them together like this, Craig near tears as he panicked and he had wanted to do something but at the same time he had been far too afraid to move the other. He barked at the spooked guy to stop fucking staring and go get help and when Tweek was in the hospital, finally sleeping, Craig couldn’t help but think that he had been acting horrible. He hadn’t paid enough attention to someone who was supposed to be his goddamn boyfriend and even if he did notice that Tweek was getting worse, he, too, wrote it off as nothing, too self-conceited to actually ask him what was wrong and _offer help_.

He had been no better than the rest.

Tweek’s was out cold for two days and Craig skipped school the entire time, not giving a fuck that his dad would skin him alive when he got yet another call from their homeroom teacher. Tweek was more important than anything and he had somehow let himself forget that in the midst of his own fake social interactions, fist fights and meaningless ponderings about how nothing was fair and he hated the town that he had lived in.

When his boyfriend came around from his insomnia-induced coma, Craig kissed him fully, properly, all of the regret he had felt in it, not one bit caring that the other was out for quite some time and it would probably be pretty gross to kiss him like that but he was way too deep in relief that he just kind of forgot all about it, didn’t even think it over.

Again, Tweek freaked out this time over skipping school and Craig kind of wanted to slap him but he didn’t and then the doctors were there and he was kicked out of the room with the phrase ‘ _give us time_ ’ thrown at him. He wanted to kick down the door but Tweek’s parents were there so he behaved. He didn’t need any more suspicious stares.

After that Tweek had been put on heavy medication that made him even more fucked up than he’d ever been. He was on sleeping pills the moment he stepped out of school and yet nothing had worked. He was awake, a zombie that was only functioning on a dulled sense of anxiety and by then people really did start avoiding him along with Craig because Craig had to be fucking weird for banging that thing.

Craig had been too busy worrying over Tweek to care about his rapidly dwindling circle of fake ass friends, going as far as staying up a few nights in a row just so he could reassure the other that no one was going to crawl out of the dark. He had patiently listened to the mantras of ‘ _I can’t sleep I can’t sleep I’m so tired I can’t I can’t_ ’, chest constricting, sleep dwindling completely.

Three days later Craig trespassed into Tweek’s house, all of the lights in their neighborhood turned off. He could no longer just listen and the sleep-deprivation wasn’t the answer, he was too unfocused to actually listen to anything at school or do anything else. Too tired to function.

Tweek had been waiting, nervously jumping up at every quiet creak of the floorboards under Craig’s shoes, obsessively checking if his parents were still asleep. He hadn’t known what was it that Craig had wanted and why he asked to meet up at precisely 1 am in his cursed room that was crawling with supernatural and the unseen.

“Y-You want to break up, ri-right?” he stuttered out and Craig was almost floored by it, thinking that he had severely miscalculated. Maybe he really was a load on Tweek’s bony shoulders, an extra source of worry to him. With Craig gone the other’s emotional burden would undeniably lessen. Right? “W-why do you need someone like me, Jesus, dude, I’m like a zombie. I- I should be asleep-“

“But you can’t,” was all that the other said, eyes gleaming eerily in the glow of the star-shaped nightlight that illuminated the room in light blue making it all the more... off-putting. If Craig had that thing expanding the shadows of his dresser like that, he’d be pretty scared too. Tweek only gaped at him, shivers racking down his stick-thin body. He nervously wrung his fingers. Somehow that made Craig’s stomach pinch itself with worry, but he waved the gnawing feeling away. He slowly removed the bulging backpack that he had been carrying and unzipped it, showing its contents. A blanket was neatly rolled up in it. “That’s why I’m going to help you do it.”

Tweek jumped slightly at the outrageous suggestion. “W-What! Ack, no, m-my parents wouldn’t allow that, p-plus I don’t want you to stay up anymore! Please leave!”

Craig approached him slowly as though he was a frightened forest animal, lifting one finger to his boyfriend’s bitten-at lips, a sign for him to quiet down in case his parents were to hear. Craig swears that he had heard some movement outside the door, but nothing happened and they sighed in unison, relief overtaking.

“You won’t know until you try it,” he offered silently and before Tweek could make any more arguments, he peeled off his hoodie, night shirt already in place.

Even in this dim lighting Craig could see the flush staining his blondie’s cheeks, making him blush too. He moved to unzip his jeans and he couldn’t help but smile slightly when Tweek spluttered and turned around, suddenly looking very small just like when they were kids, instead of actually towering over him like he did over everyone else. Craig shucked off his tight jeans, kind of glad that the other wasn’t staring, hat still in place. He couldn’t part with that thing.

“Well, hop into bed,” he ordered, voice sleep-laced and Tweek finally realized what was happening.

“N-No! Craig, you can’t stay, fuck, w-wh-what if my dad finds you here, he’ll skin you alive, _no_ , even _worse_ what if _yours_ finds out that you snuck out, I-I can’t-“

“Get in the bed, Tweek,” Craig repeated himself slowly, and rolled his eyes for good measure, already fluffing the pillows and straightening out the cocoon of blankets that were thrown to the edge of the small bed.

Craig inspected it with mild curiosity. Normally he didn’t pay attention to the boy’s bed but now that they were to _sleep_ in it… Well, it would definitely be a tight squeeze but it was _sooo_ worth it. Plus he felt a little giddy himself. He’d never slept with Tweek before and secretly he wanted to cuddle the other, tangle their long legs together. He wasn’t sure they’d fit just right but he was almost certain that Tweek would sleep if Craig kissed the back of his neck. The blond’s neck was a swan like column of absolute beauty and deserved to be an object of worship in Craig’s humble opinion. It helped that it was sensitive as heck.

Tweek made no move, still frozen in place, toes wriggling in the plush carpet that was an ugly shade of olive green. Craig rolled his eyes at that. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. I will be out before they wake up. Please just. Let me try this. Let’s do it.”

“But!”

“No buts. Other than yours on this bed and against my body.” He didn’t catch up on the fact that it sounded like a terrible innuendo but he wasn’t about to take it back. He really did want that. Plus he was tired and tomorrow was a school day.

Reluctantly the other had abided his wishes and settled down close to the wall as Craig took the edge, knowing that he would have four hours of sleep at most starting now until his alarm went off but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He did all-nighters before, after all. He remembers how he lied through his teeth to his mom, saying that he actually stayed up studying, but this lie wouldn’t hurt her years down the road. Only him.

Tweek was so very warm against him, twitchy but not overly so. He shuffled around a bit every fifteen minutes but after a while Craig realized that it was because he had actually fallen asleep. Not necessarily a peaceful rest, that much he could tell by the whines that escaped him but it was good enough for now, it was definitely a start. He moved closer, forehead pressed against Tweek’s twitchy shoulder blades and closed his eyes, nuzzling.

At 4:30 am Craig found that he could no longer sleep though his mind was still clouded in a heavy fog but his eyes were clear. At some point Tweek had turned around so that he was facing him, head tucked in nicely under Craig’s chin, pale hair tickling him with every puff of breath that the other boy took. He let out soft sighs every once in a while and Craig felt himself flush and his thoughts traveled down a dangerous road that would make his boxer shorts uncomfortable but then the quiet vibration of his phone snapped him out of it as he slowly untangled their legs, feeling incredibly cold when he turned the moment-killing thing off.

Tweek twitched in his sleep again and rolled over and Craig was ecstatic by the idea that he actually made his boyfriend sleep for longer than fifteen minutes a night. Rushedly he got dressed, not bothering to tie his sneakers properly and he sent one last longing look at the bed, smiling slightly. He left his blanket there, it now joined the small pile of others on Tweek’s warm body as he moaned silently and patted the still warm spot where Craig lied. The flutter of those eyes stopped him in his tracks. Might as well say good morning before bailing. It was simple etiquette.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty. Slept well?” he kept his voice in a low whisper, praying that Mr. Tweak wouldn’t wake up for a cup of morning coffee. You could never know with these people.

Tweek rubbed his eyes, looking around as though he had a hard time processing what was going on and he froze mid eye-rub. Craig raised an eyebrow.

“I… I actually fell asleep,“ he tested those words on his tongue like they were something alien and they probably were. He repeated them again as he looked up at Craig looking way better than he had in days. “Oh gosh, was it _weird?_ I-I heard that I sleep with my eyes open, did that freak you out?” his stutter was barely there and he didn’t have those entire body shaking tremors for now and Craig was amazed because, _damn_ , his touch must be _magic_.

“No, no of course not. You were sleeping like a baby. Really adorable,” Craig replied, enjoying the pale pink overtaking those cheeks, reddened from sleep. “I even have pics.”

“Wh-what? Nooo, show me!”

“I don’t think so.”

“F-For _uh_. Uh. A kiss?”

Craig smiled slightly, his usual cool façade slipping away completely. “I think you owe me that much already.” He would’ve pounced on the blond but that would’ve caused too much noise so in a few huge steps he bent over, kissing his lips lightly. Tweek kissed back, soft and warm against him, body lax now that it got a dose of that one thing it craved so much. His magical touch, obviously.

They were languidly making out for at least five minutes before Craig decided that he had to bail lest he got his ass busted by his dad who tended to rise at random hours of the morning. “I gotta go now, see ya at school. Stay away from the coffee.”

“Mh… maybe.”

And with that he was out, heart hammering wildly inside his ribcage when he tiptoed back to his room and shut the door deciding to not sleep anymore. What was the point when he would have to wake up soon?

After that Tweek started to get better. It was a slow recovery, one that tamed his blackened eyelids and made his skin gain a healthier tone. He was still a nervous and stuttering mess in school, but he no longer looked like he had attended his own funeral. Tweek’s parents swore that the change was caused by the meds and Tweek kept his mouth shut, the sleeping pills buried deep in one of his drawers, no longer needed. His attention span seemed to get better too and it didn’t take long for him to actually get the academic results that he had spent so much time trying to achieve, sleep deprived or not.

It was getting better, just the two of them at night, legs tangled and kisses exchanged. Craig took immense pride in flustering his blondie whenever he had the chance and it was in that same bed that they first got sexual, followed by their first time, whimpers and moans muffled into sheets and lips and it felt like heaven. It was their safe ground where no one could judge them and Tweek was normal, calm.

It was their downfall too, the one that made everything go to shit and it didn’t really take a genius to put two and two together as to what they’ve been doing when one Friday Craig forgot to set his alarm and Tweek’s mother came into his room, asking for help in the coffee shop. The sound of a breaking coffee cup hitting the floor alarmed Tweek’s father and before either one of them knew it, all hell broke loose.

Craig kind of expected something worse like to get thrown out of their house, cussed out in every way imaginable and threatened with police for breaking and entering and molesting their underage son who still happened to be his boyfriend but who the fuck even cared about that part, right? No, nothing like that happened, there was some shouting involved from Mrs. Tweak, something about them having no shame and that this was a crime mostly because of sneaking in. Craig dressed up as she moralized, head hung low in shame and he was glad that he at least wasn’t butt naked. He was pretty sure that the Tweaks would’ve had a heart stroke if that were the case.

Tweek’s mother stayed inside to further lecture her son who was hyperventilating by then and firmly closed the door right at Craig’s hurt face. Mr. Tweak was waiting outside, his eyes serious and Craig knew that the guy was pissed, could feel the anger radiate in cool waves from his tall form. He didn’t yell, only lectured his ass off about how this was wrong and other things that Craig was too pissed to hear out, eyebrow twitching as he hissed through clenched teeth.

“You can tell me whatever you want, _sir_ , but you can’t fucking _deny_ the fact that he’s only been sleeping well with me around.”

His only reply was an indignant intake of breath as he informed Craig that he’d called his father and that he was no longer welcome in their house.

And that was probably the _worst_ thing they could’ve done. They could’ve shouted, hit him, called the police, oh god, did right about anything than call his dad. Craig vaguely considered not returning home and looking for ways to get into Tweek’s at night, fully knowing that someone would be up keeping watch and that Tweek was probably going to be grounded until his high school graduation, his cell confiscated. He knew that it was a silly idea and he had a feeling that even if he ran to the farthest point of USA or even crossed the borders of Canada, his father’s arms would reach him and drag his sorry ass back home so he could strangle him to death for causing shame to the Tucker name and being an insufferable little bastard who only smoked pot and broke into other people’s houses.

It was a horrible day, things were thrown, and hits were exchanged along with hateful words. He remembers his sister crying inside her room and his mother begging them to stop. Craig doesn’t remember the last time he cried over his family, tears of physical and mental pain as bruises bloomed on his jaw and his eye was swelling. His dad’s rage was infinite and scorching hot, so unlike Mr. Tweak’s who was a mild blizzard at most. He hurled another glass at him and Craig barely had the time to duck out of the way as it shattered into a thousand of small pieces behind him. If that had hit him he could’ve broken bones was what he had thought as he pressed his back against the wall circling around the kitchen table, fully knowing that if his father really wanted to, he could easily leap over it and it would be game over. He needed distance to regain his breath that was coming out in short rasps.

“Enough of you playing around, son! You will not continue this any longer! You’ll break up with this boy tomorrow morning, enough of these games and being a homosexual, grow out of it already! You’re a man, a Tucker, for fucks’ sakes, and you will act like one. Am I clear?”

And with that Craig was ordered out of the house to roam the streets until his father cooled off enough. He almost tripped in his haste to get out, yelling something hateful after himself and slamming the door so hard a picture frame crashed onto the floor.

He took off running, puffs of white fog leaving his mouth and he just had to be alone and get this solved. It was cold, the breeze made him develop goosebumps but he didn’t care, face hot from tears and the pulsing heat of his bruises. He wanted to run into the woods, to scream and shout, tear and wreck everything in sight.

 _This wasn’t fucking fair_. _Why_ was he the bad guy for trying to _help out?_ So what if he slept in Tweek’s bed, who even cared? They were _dating_ for fucks’ sakes. Some chicks in his class were already pregnant even though graduation was almost an entire year away and people were screwing around left and right with their significant others while Craig had to settle for barely seeing Tweek between classes and their studies. The blond was always holed up in that damn coffee shop working his shifts.

It had been then that it kind of dawned on him that they all thought that this was a game and it all clicked into place; the thoughts of people finding the idea of him and Tweek being intimate disgusting and against the laws of nature, his dad, Tweek’s parents.

They all hated the idea of this being more than some childhood play. It was no longer adorable when two grownass teens, almost men now, were like that. There was nothing cute and coo-worthy about it, only disturbing. Disgust and fear that this was serious had pertained their parents along with the knowledge that none of them would come back home with girls under their arms, girls pregnant with grandchildren. There would be no big family gatherings during holidays, only two aging guys bringing their pets because they had nowhere else to leave them. It was the exact opposite of the true American dream, the exact opposite of what was common and normal.

It was so depressing that there was nothing else left for Craig Tucker to do as he sat down on a bench at the park and bemoaned his fate, crying out loud.

He choked on worry thinking about what Tweek must be going through but his parents weren’t his dad, they were more accepting, more loving, yet still, Craig saw the look of disgust in their eyes. Even if they tried to be supportive, the idea of their son actually engaging in these kinds of unholy sodomies was impossible to comprehend.

That night he didn’t return home, wandering around the town aimlessly as though he was one of the people from the bad part of their neighborhood, freezing his ass off, yet he decided that not going back home before his father woke up was unforgivable. This time he might aim a glass at his head just right and kill on the spot, and as much as Craig wanted to die then, he couldn’t stand not knowing what happened to Tweek first.

He climbed the tree growing near their house and jumped on the roof with the grace of a feline as he perched there and watched the pink sunrise, breathing in cold air and wanting nothing more than to freeze to death rather than deal with his enraged father. He knew that it took him more than one day to cool off. Maybe if he found Craig on the roof passed out from hypothermia he’d back the fuck off. Or he’d just find a way to revive him and then kill him again.

On Monday he brought his ass to school and it seemed that everyone around town had already heard about what happened. There was a whole lot of staring and whispering and Craig couldn’t wait until the class that he and Tweek had shared to come faster because he knew that he couldn’t seek out the boy sooner. His dad told him to not even bother looking at the other for no reason and if he was to do anything stupid, he would know immediately. Half-certain that his dad somehow bribed the entire school to spy on him seemed pretty legit seeing as everyone kept staring and no one even dared to approach him that day. Finally Biology came and he saw Tweek, his state that Craig had spent so many days trying to fix reduced back to what it was, if not worse. He seemed like he wasn’t even there and he didn’t dare to look up from his desk and acknowledge Craig in any way. The black-haired teen didn’t even attempt to approach him, fully knowing that Tweek must have gone through the same series of threats. Hopefully none of them were passed on by his dad. It was more than likely.

It was their last period and Craig decided to get this over with. It was for Tweek’s own good.

He kept telling that to himself as he publically dumped his boyfriend that he had been dating for the last seven years, trying not to look at the other as big tears rolled down his cheeks and he clutched onto his messenger bag as though it was a lifeline, knuckles whitening out over paper-thin skin. Tweek only nodded and turned away to leave, murmurs following him as some Asian girls called shenanigans on this situation and Wendy looked close to tears, obviously horrified. Craig kicked a stray rock and looked around at the crowd that was gathered, buzzing uneasily.

“The fuck are you looking at!? Show’s over! Leave!” he raged, yelling insults to those who wouldn’t hurry up or wanted to stay behind and ask what was truly going on. He roughly brushed past Wendy – her fault, everything that went wrong in his life was undeniably her fucking fault – almost knocking the girl to the ground, glaring at Stan who attempted to lecture him about lady treatment. It took one stare to scare Marsh away and Craig stormed off, mind settled on the wet hazel eyes and trembling lips.

After that Craig sank deep into depression, mood worsening whenever he heard stories of Tweek Tweak crying and hyperventilating in the boys’ bathroom every other day or so, but he wasn’t brave enough to go in and confirm it himself. It hurt too much and he didn’t think he could bear to stay away, he’d kick the cabin’s door down if he had to and then take his boy somewhere far away where no one minded their relationship.

It’s for Tweek’s good is what Craig said as he actually saw the other boy with red-rimmed eyes one day and he punched the lockers once the bell rang and everyone vacated to their classrooms. It’s for Tweek, he thought as he smoked a cigarette after cigarette and didn’t give a fuck when his dad grounded him for skipping class, in fact, Craig was fucking grateful because now he had an excuse to not come out of his room and look his father in the eyes.

It’s all for Tweek and _will always_ be for him, Craig drunkenly thought at Clyde’s stupid jock parties where he mingled and drank himself silly and then smoked pot and made out with all of the blonds out there, guys and girls alike. None of them had those rough lips with chewed-at skin, none of their lips fit quite right, they were far too experienced and always dead on center and the backs of their necks felt weird to hold. It was just not good enough.

It’s for Tweek, so he can get friends, friends that aren’t _Craig_ and his bad influence, friends who don’t have bloody noses every day until there’s a slight bump, a deformation that doesn’t add anything to him, only makes Craig look meaner, tougher. Less emotional. Tweek needs _real_ friends who are good to him like Testaburger who follows the blond boy like a lost puppy and makes him visibly uncomfortable.

Maybe she would date him. Tweek was a lost beauty, but a beauty none the less. He could recover but the one who would help him, who would be there for him wasn’t Craig and one night he kind of gets that he never will be because even in the dark he could tell that it was Tweek who was leaving the library with a stack of books and he had jumped up at the noise to his right and Craig drunkenly met his gaze as he came into some guy’s mouth. He forgot the name.

They stared at each other for a long moment and then Tweek ran fast, as fast as his long yet clumsy newborn deer-like legs could carry him. The guy attempted to kiss him, using his moment of confusion, and Craig punched him square in the jaw for being disgusting. He didn’t want to kiss anyone while he remembered who Tweek Tweak was, remembered the pale skin and sunflower-yellow hair. He didn’t want to taste his own shame on his tongue.

It was all for a guy that was his _ex_ and he was still ridiculously _in love_ with, a guy that had lived at least ten minutes away from him and went to the same school, had shared his classes, but Craig still couldn’t reach him. Tweek was somewhere far far away in his land of unseen and magical, a land filled with underwear gnomes and other beings.

Craig was an earthly being and Tweek was somewhere far away in space, living on the moon, among the stars that shine a pale blue just like that stupid night-lamp in his room.

Craig cried sometimes. His hormones, rage and heartbreak-induced feelings tended to overflow and he teared up while listening to songs because ironically every song reminded him of Tweek. Everything had. He thought if maybe he could even write a song and send it to the local radio so Tweek would hear it. Would he understand then? He was no musician but he had a guitar and he knew that its sound pissed off his dad. Writing songs was something weaklings did but at the time he had been so weak that he couldn’t keep on living properly, not when he had to think about his future and finals that were slowly creeping up on him. He thought about not showing up altogether.

Life went on, as shitty and pathetic as it was and when Tweek collapsed, Craig couldn’t care for the bans anymore, he was willing to stand still while his father strangled the gay out of him and he had still gone there like a fucking hero and Tweek’s parents hadn’t kicked him out. They understood, on some level at least, and it was a _pity_ that it took _their son_ to fucking _faint_ in the middle of a hallway for them to finally open their goddamn eyes.

Tweek’s tears were hot and Craig had thought that so were his but none of that mattered because they were together like this again and that was all that was truly important.

“Let’s get back together, please, I don’t _care_ what the fuck our parents do to me but I can’t keep doing this either, please.” Craig had been the one talking rushedly as though he and Tweek had switched places and Tweek nodded, too weak to actually form words and he looked so bad that Craig wanted to cry even more but it was okay.

They’d make it alright somehow even if his dad had given him hell the following night and Craig finally fucking lost it and somehow they had screamed it out with no bruises or broken things as his dad tiredly sunk low into his chair and rubbed his forehead, silently wishing Craig to do well in exams because he would be sent out to the farthest college from Colorado the moment he stepped out of their school’s stadium, a fresh diploma in his hands, and his robe and cap still on.

His son said absolutely nothing in return and left for his room, slamming the door for good measure. He thought about those words for the rest of the night, sleep eluding him and came up with billions of plans, thoughts, some sillier than others and then ideas followed by backups for all of them.

Graduation inched closer and he and Tweek continued as they left off, assuming the friend position at school, trying their hardest to ignore each other, but nothing could’ve stopped them from texting, from the gazes that they exchanged during class.

Craig had memorized his boyfriend’s entire schedule, knew by heart when to call and not. They talked about future and plans and he heard the blond’s voice hitch when he told him that his parents were expecting for him to leave for a college somewhere far away. The line went silent for a few moments and after some half-asssed excuse it went dead, leaving Craig stunned, periodic beeping ringing in his ear.

Tweek didn’t reply for the next few days but that hadn’t stopped Craig from spamming him with texts as he told him that it was alright and that he had big plans for it and he really needed Tweek to show at Clyde’s shitty party hosted at Token’s manor.

Everyone was invited, the freaks, the outcasts, the nerds. It was the last party they would have before graduation and half of them left the town. It was just like remembering the good old times except even then, nothing had changed. Everyone was in groups, losers didn’t mingle with the cool kids and the only things that made it slightly different from school were the flowing booze and rivals getting together in one place to toke up. It was all _damn great_ because they finally had a good excuse to talk to each other and Craig knew that he could bail with his secret boyfriend the moment his phone showed it was 7 pm and Craig’s parents got the fuck out of the town. No one would notice that he and Tweek were missing and no one would really care. It wasn’t like they were elites, even if Craig did _sort of_ belong there.

Tweek stood there without Wendy by his side for once, dressed in a simple t-shirt, his old COWS baseball jersey on him, sleeves too short. The blond still stood a good few inches taller than everyone else and his hair stood out the most, strands all over the place like usual. He rubbed at one of his arms nervously, looking around, catching Craig’s dark blue eyes all the way on the other side of the crowd. He smiled nervously and dove between the people far too smoothly for someone who walked all weird, legs shaky.

Craig wanted to kiss him right then and there but there were people and he didn’t want to blow their cover. He took one of Tweek’s sweaty hands in his gloved ones instead and they were gone, not a single soul wondering about them the entire night.

They sat on the roof of Craig’s house, looking into the distance where the sun was slowly dying, painting the sky in blinding hues of pink and orange. Stars were coming out and both of them smoked as Craig laughed at Tweek’s clumsy attempts to do it. He might’ve commented about how he really was a bad influence on the taller one, he doesn’t remember, but they fell silent eventually.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to be gone in three weeks,” Tweek whispered, not shivering in the slightest for once, probably because he’d been curled up under Craig’s left arm, snuggled close, hazel eyes tracing the patterns that the smoke drew in the air which was rapidly cooling. Craig was grateful for the fact that they could be together like this, his parent wouldn’t show until at least 2:30 am. They had taken the unwilling Ruby with them and let him stay home because he was way too problematic either way and would’ve inevitably ruined the fancy ass dinner slash party that they were attending.

Craig sneaked in a look at Tweek, kissing the top of his head. It was nice like this, no back alleys behind coffee shops and no hiding behind corners, out of the curious gazes of others. “I was thinking that,” they both had started at the same time and stared at each other with wide eyes.

Craig snorted. “Alright, you can go first.”

“I. Well. Uh. I was thinking that, I know this is _impossible_ right, but I was thinking that I would like to go with you. I _guess_ ,” Tweek trailed off eventually and Craig couldn’t believe his own fucking ears and he had to make sure he was hearing this properly. He had shared his night time musings with Tweek ages ago, plans of him bailing and his hopes for Tweek to just leave it all behind, leave this shitty redneck town and go somewhere far away where they could start a new life and Tweek had dismissed it before he even finished, voice shaking so badly Craig couldn’t properly listen to it, didn’t want to listen to as he tried to ignore the burning ache in his gut.

“What was that now?” he repeated, still dazed by Tweek’s confession.

“I said- ugh, you know w-what it’s stupid and it’s never going to happen so _never mind_ —“

“ _No._ No, Tweek. I was. I was thinking about it too, for, like, _weeks_ now.” It didn’t sound too reassuring, a bad plan probably but he really had put a lot of thought into it. “I really want you to come with me. I’m just not sure how to do it at the moment and I know that for me getting a scholarship is probably impossible but. Imagine that. Just imagine. I’d go to college far away and you could come with me.”

And it sounded like some pipe dream and Tweek probably didn’t really take him seriously judging by the dreamy look on his face as he stared into the fading sunset. “Y-Yeah, that’d be real nice. We could, uh, I don’t know. I’d like to continue my parents business just. Maybe on my own. Somewhere where it’s sunny, because there are more people there, yeah? A big city where everyone is constantly in a rush and they need their fix, something like it.”

He had talked in choppy sentences, spent hours doing it but Craig got the gist of it and he thought it over too. Surely it’d be nice and they could live far away from South Park where people would at least take them seriously. Craig also thought that he’d probably marry Tweek if he could but that was far too stupid and far away so that night he didn’t contemplate it, focusing on the feeling of the blond hair between his fingers.

They were still high school kids who hadn’t even reached their finals and their plans were so big, bigger than the world itself but the realization of them was harder than they could’ve expected. Making them real, these wishes, it all came from work and knowledge and Craig didn’t have any of those, didn’t make the effort at school, choosing to be a troublemaker instead, and now he regretted it, cursed his own stupidity.

Never had he regretted those dreams and he still kept them in the back of his mind even as he went to that secluded college far away from Colorado for which his parents had to pay because he wasn’t good enough to get a scholarship himself. He remembered those aspirations as he had to pick a sobbing Tweek up from an airport and they bailed to somewhere four cities away, college contracts broken, money scarce and South Park somewhere far behind.

It had been a rough start but at first they made by with what they had saved up over the years and Craig hated the thought of freeloading on Tweek’s behalf who was considered a proper employee at his family’s coffee shop and got his own share of money over the years just like any other working person would. Even when things got rough for them, Craig remembered that silly afternoon spent on his sun-warmed roof, watching the stars and Tweek’s awe as Craig traced constellations and named their stars is still vivid in his memories and they had _such big plans_ and then next thing they knew, they were two kids out in the _real world_ where parents wouldn’t help, tossed around and squeezed by the society.

Perhaps they grew up too fast but that was what they wanted and Craig could only wish Tweek the best of luck for his first job interview at a huge coffee house. The boy was shaking, looking awkward in that properly buttoned shirt (Craig took it upon himself to fix it whenever Tweek messed up a button or two) but Craig simply kissed him, told him that _he could do this_ as they went their separate ways, hugging him tight when the other returned successful. His blondie was soft and warm and even when he’s squeamish he still works hard, swallows down his twitchiness when there’s coffee involved, something familiar, something he can _actually handle_.

Craig knows that one day Tweek will open his own coffee shop and it will be more successful than anything his parents ever had and he swears that he will be there to see it, help him realize his dream through thick and thin and hopefully support him financially.

And even if Craig doesn’t work on the chords for that song from what seemed to be many years ago, when the doctors finally let him in to see his sick boyfriend, he thinks that he can finally sing it. His voice is shit, it’s still awful from his aching throat, but Tweek listened to him calmly, sedated and relaxed now that Craig’s here. He looked weak and small but there’s no way for Craig to compare him to who he was when he left South Park. Tweek Tweak was a brand new man, an actual someone who got accepted for hard work and the amount of effort he put into it, no longer a social outcast just because some brats said so. His eyes were no longer sunken in and his hair looked healthy and even if there were these dark things that killed him on the inside, Craig hoped that he could fight them away. He tries. He always did. It was all for Tweek.

“I know, it’s probably horrible, don’t stare like that,” Craig says once he’s done and stifles his coughs into his scarf. His face is burning up less from shame and more from the temperature. “I know that it sucks.”

“Nah, I think… it- it was really nice. Though I don’t think my hair color is anything close to sunflower yellow.”

Craig’s silent and they hold hands for a while. He thinks back to that evening and that chipped roof and sees where they are today. In a goddamn hospital, drowning in debt but still together, _still fine_ and Tweek is still Tweek, his illnesses and inner demons not threatening to whisk him away, the only person that Craig actually gives a damn about, the only person that makes him rebel against his father and maybe they will somehow be okay. Soon enough Tweek will be sunflower yellow, soon enough he will adjust, just like how Craig will heal and then they will think about their future once again.

**Author's Note:**

> study hard, kids.


End file.
